


Call of the Sea

by catbru



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Depression, F/M, millian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 00:24:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11566482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catbru/pseuds/catbru
Summary: Try as she might, it’s impossible for Milah to resist the call of the sea. (Set between the first meeting through her inevitable running away with one Captain Killian Jones. Canon compliant.)





	Call of the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> I started roleplaying as [Milah on Tumblr](http://justmilah.tumblr.com) and have been writing some things to get her character down because three episodes is hard to get down a personality. It is _highly_ possible that characterizations may evolve over time but isn't that what exploring a character is all about?
> 
> 'But Cat,' you may or may not ask, who am I to know your thoughts. 'You have Captain Swan stories here. I thought you shipped them!'
> 
> To answer this possible question, yes. Yes I do. And I also ship Millian. This is new for me ship-wise and I love it.
> 
> (Also this has Milah's thoughts on Rumpelstiltskin and they are not always pleasant.)

The first time Milah set foot on the  _Jolly Roger_  was also on the same night she first met the ship’s captain and they did nothing more than talk.

He had found her on the docks, standing some feet away from the door of the tavern, looking at it without really  _seeing_  it. She jumped at the weight of his hand on her shoulder and his pleased expression at seeing her again so soon dimmed to concern. Milah tried to hide behind the reassuring smiles and words that always worked on her husband, but the tilt of his head and slight narrowing of his eyes told her he did not quite believe her. And somehow she found herself being led to his ship.

The night air was crisp, cool enough to weave its way through the fiber of her clothing and nip at her skin. Behind her, dockworkers and sailors alike milled around, carrying barrels and crates and large sacks. Before her laid the infinite horizon of the sea as gentle waves brushed the hull of the ship, causing her to rock ever so slightly. Life was happening around her and she was numb to it all.

She was alone on the deck while the captain had gone below, trying hard to keep her mind clear of everything, and part of her wondered if she shouldn’t remove the shawl from her waist and wrap it around her shoulders. But movement required thought, and if she did too much of that she would probably suffocate.

Milah had always been drawn to the sea. As a child the crashing waves and devastating storms promised a world beyond her small port. The salty sea air whispered to her young imagination, telling her stories of lands she would one day discover. As she grew older the sea mocked her as she realized she would never leave.

And sometimes, when things became hard, she would imagine giving herself the sea anyway. At least that way her body could travel the ocean even if the rest of her wasn’t there to join it.

When she did move it was to lean heavily and suddenly against the railing of the ship, arms taught as her palms dug into the smooth wood. She wished it were coarse, wanted tiny splinters to bite into her skin, but the grain was too well worn for that.

She jumped for a second time when a heavy weight fell around her shoulders. Her fingers automatically clutched at the lapels of the heavy leather jacket Killian had draped around her as she stood back to look at him. Her head tilted slightly away as he held up a flask, her eyes never leaving his.

Too late she wondered if her decision to follow him on board was a wise one or not. Ignoring how small the port town was where gossip had the potential to spread fast, he was a pirate. A charming pirate the promised excitement, perhaps, but a pirate nonetheless.

He took a sip from the flask before setting it on the railing before her and sidestepped away to lean against it. “It’s a cold night, lass. You could probably do with some fortification.”

“Is it?” It was only then Milah noticed the sting against her cheeks. She picked up the flask and took a long pull, squeezing her eyes shut against the tight burn in her throat and holding her breath as it settled hot in her stomach. She coughed slightly as the fumes tickled out through her nose. “It’s stronger than I expected.”

His grin was easy. “Captain’s reserve.”

Her cheeks warmed at that. Had she taken too much of a pull? She tried another sip, watching him as she did. Killian made no move to stop her.

“Is it the ailing child?”

“Baelfire?” Her son’s name sounded as though there should be another child. That there  _would_  be another child. For a moment she had forgotten that her future had been taken away without her consent.

He shrugged a little at her quizzical look. “You seem troubled. I worried that perhaps something might have happened.”

Milah took a breath in through the nose and another pull of rum down her throat. “No, Baelfire is fine. Thank you. His father… _succeeded_  in procuring a cure.”

His eyebrows drew together as he tilted his chin up. “But at what cost?”

She clenched her jaw as she willed the sudden stinging in her eyes to go away because it was too soon for them. She needed time to process, to hold this hurt close to her chest, to make the pain familiar. As it was, it was too new, too fresh, and if she let it out now she was afraid she would break.

So she bit back the sting as she bit out her words. “Why are you being nice to me,  _Captain?_ ”

Killian folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve been accused of being many things before but ‘nice’ is hardly one of them.”

Yet he  _had_  been nice. She wilted a little in on herself, not for his shift in posture, but at her own stupidity for wrecking the moment. She clutched his flask against her chest, almost afraid he would try to take it back and send her away.

He didn’t, though, Instead, he grabbed her hand and suddenly she was being pulled along the deck. “Come on.”

Her heart thundered in her chest. “What are you  _doing?_ ” This time there was no bite. Instead there was bewilderment, confusion and healthy dose of caution.

“Showing you something.” Killian tugged her toward a crate and pried off the lid. He rifled his hands through the straw, digging deeper until his eyes lit up. “Ah hah!”

He presented her with a couple of small purple rocks, not completely opaque. “What are these?”

“Memory stones.” He grinned at her. “That’s what the locals call them, anyway.”

Her eyes widened. “Why would they call them that?”

“They have this legend about rock trolls that can steal away your memories.” His fingers twirled at her temple. “They make rocks that look just like these. Or so they say.”

“So these rocks hold people’s memories?” She looked at him to see if he was telling the truth before looking closer at the rocks in her hands.

“Not at all. These are fake.”

She arched an amused eyebrow at him. “Then why do you have them?”

He shrugged before taking one of the stones from her hand and held it up to the lantern. “Even if something isn’t what people think it’s supposed to be doesn’t mean it still isn’t beautiful.”

Milah leaned forward, shifting so that she could see the stone between his fingers. Her furrowed brows rose as she let out a small breath of wonder.

The fire shined through, catching on the various hues of purples and blues. It reminded her of where the open sky met the ocean after a storm. “Oh. It’s  _lovely_.”

“You, ah, you may keep that one. In your hand. If you wish.”

Her eyes went to his as he once again scratched behind his ear, her grin wide. “I would, thank you.”

A loud commotion on the docks drew her attention away. Someone had apparently knocked over a stack of barrels and a fight was about to break out. It was quickly broken up but it was then she realized how late it was and her shoulders fell. “I should get home. Baelfire’s probably awake.”

“Ah.” He let out a breath and took back the flash when she offered it. “May I walk you?”

“I am fairly certain my husband would not approve of that.” Not that he would do anything.

“Ah, of course.” The captain breathed a soft, short laugh, scratching lightly behind his ear. “To the end of the docks, then?”

She smiled and it was small and did not quite reach her eyes. “I would be honored.”

His hand was a brief weight against the small of her back before he remembered himself, but the warmth seeped through and nestled in her spine. It was a pleasant feeling she would hold onto.

At the end of the docks, there was the briefest moment of hesitation before she slid off the coat he had lent her. He grinned as he took it, folding it over his arm.

She should turn, and go home, and never see him again but she hesitated again and this time the question came out. “Captain? I realize this isn’t what you meant when you said…about being in port often. But…I was wondering if perhaps I could join you in the tavern some evenings when you are here. I would love to hear more of where you’ve been.”

Milah wanted to hear more of everything.

This time his grin was bright with the barest hint of shyness just around the corners. “Aye. I’d like that.”

Her own smile at his answer was just as bright and her heart felt lighter than it had in ages. It was then that she had an idea of just how much trouble she could potentially get herself into.


End file.
